


for good

by deansmultitudes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, First Kiss, Goodbyes, Last Kiss, M/M, Sad Ending, Stream of Consciousness, The Empty (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansmultitudes/pseuds/deansmultitudes
Summary: Cas made a deal with the Empty, and he never said a word.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	for good

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Writers of Destiel's _The Day They First Met_ Prompt Week (Angst)
> 
> I'm super late jumping on the bandwagon of the hippest sad destiel trope since a.d. 2018 (come on, the angssst, you know I had to, eventually) but hey, this was the most fun I had writing in a long time. Enjoy

He’s known for so long. For months, Cas has known. _Jack_ has known, for fuck’s sake, and they kept their traps shut, as the two of them like to do. Let Dean live content, oblivious.

_Hopeful._

Through it all, in this one little way, Dean let himself be hopeful because Cas was Cas. And Cas was immortal, wasn’t he? Even though he died and died and died. He came back. Every single time, he came back to Dean.

Exploded and drowned and ripped apart and even with the angelic blade through his heart. His wings burnt to the sandy ground—that was supposed to be it. For good, forever. Dean wouldn’t have wrapped him in the shroud otherwise, wouldn’t have laid him on the pyre next to Kelly, and lit up the flames.

He wouldn’t have said goodbye as his heart shattered. Forever, for good.

Until it was not.

Until Cas came back and all was right and all was supposed to be right. Even through Lucifer and through Michael and through God. Dean didn’t believe much in his chances of making it out alive.

But he believed in Cas.

And now Cas tells him that this is it. For real, forever. He tells him like it’s the most normal law of the universe. Bar for the tears welling up in his eyes. Dean didn’t know angels could cry.

Dean didn’t know angels could make stupid, stupid deals with cosmic entities older than time. Or that they could keep those a secret for months.

How could he not learn, with all that they’d been through? Through begging: tell me, tell me, tell me, we’ll figure this out. Together. But Cas didn’t because—

Because what? He didn’t want to worry Dean? Because there was nothing that could be done? And what if there was something and Dean didn’t even try, didn’t get the chance to?

What was that, about making stupid deals and breaking them for one another? What about _you’re welcome?_ Guess that only goes for Cas, a big hero, Dean’s hero.

Dean’s stubborn, dying friend.

What other consequences could there be anyway? They’re fighting God, the Almighty, the Writer. Everything else kinda pales, doesn’t it?

They could have found a way. Or maybe they couldn’t but Dean won’t know that now, will he? So Schrodinger's guilt tips toward: he could have. And he failed Cas and he’s losing Cas and he has to live with that—and not with Cas—for however long more he gets to exist.

Did he hope for Heaven? Did he hope that, when he dies, Cas would be there, waiting for him at the door between Dean’s little corner of the matrix and the endless white corridors? And they could have had forever there.

And they could have had years, or months, or just days maybe, down here, but that would still be enough. If they could fight Chuck together—that would be enough.

 _This_ is not enough—seconds. Minutes if they’re lucky. More tears in Cas’s eyes.

Because Cas was happy, but, by God, happiness isn’t worth it. Dean could have made him miserable but he’d keep him close. No. He’d make him content. Because content? That’s enough too, isn’t it? That’s Dean’s life, after all: misery and content.

And grief, always grief. Because no one ever stays, even if they want to.

Did Cas want to? If so, why didn’t he hold onto life with everything he’s got? Why didn’t he hold onto Dean with his crooked fingers digging into Dean’s flesh, with teeth and the bloodied remnants of his wings?

Like Dean holds on to. With his hands biting invisible bruises into Cas’s body, with the tension of Dean’s muscles that for a while carried wings. With his teeth, his lips, his tongue, holding onto Cas for dear life; giving and taking and _loving,_ like he should have been for a long time. For years and years and years.

It never mattered because there always was time, more time. Dean should have known. People always leave. But not Cas. How can he?

How dare he?

What about Dean’s happiness? What was better and brighter and more important about Cas’s moment in the sun that made the price worth paying? When Dean’s right here, and Dean will never know what that’s like, again. With Cas gone and gone and gone. How dared he?

And the Empty crawls and it crawls and it crawls, closer with every desperate _I love you_ kissed into Cas’s lips.

With every reply of _I’m sorry, I’m sorry,_ until I’m sorry turns into _goodbye._

The Empty is here, unforgiving, angry, vicious. It wants Cas, it has Cas, it takes Cas away.

With a blink, he’s gone. They’re both gone.

Cas never gave Dean a chance, and he’s gone now.

 _Goodbye, Cas._ But Cas is gone and the ground is cold and the world is a blur. _I love you._

They should have had so much more time.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always very much appreciated!
> 
> Find this story on [tumblr](https://deansmultitudes.tumblr.com/post/629464196354015232/for-good-dean-x-cas-angst-mcd-08k)


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